


Post-Mountain Processing

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished and A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Post-Mountain Processing

The door was still swinging closed as Jaskier thrust you up against the wall, mouth hungrily seeking yours. You throw your head back and laugh and his mouth skims the ridges of your jaw and the curve of your neck.

“I’ve missed you,” you sigh, the words nearly cut off as he captures your mouth with his again. Jaskier’s talented tongue was misunderstood by many. They thought it shone only when forming words and melodies, but you knew better. You knew the soft caresses of it on your skin, the coaxing gentleness as it slipped in your mouth and the rough scrape of it against the tenderest parts of you, all moments captured in breathless silence yet just as expressive as any song.

You slide the doublet off his shoulders but get no further, his arms quickly wrapping around you again, tightly, as though he were afraid you were a mirage that would disappear in an instant. Something had happened out there on the mountain but he would use his words when ready. For now you used the language he’d chosen, touch and taste, to try and express everything you felt. You held each other tightly, coiling around each other like snakes on a caduceus. His hand tangled in your hair and around your waist, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, mouths locked together in an embrace that was just as resolute. You opened your eyes as you finally shifted far enough apart to catch your breath and found him already looking at you, eyes filled with hurt and love and hunger.

“What happened up there?” you ask, brushing his hair back from his eyes and cradling his face gently. He leans into your touch, kissing your finds, eyes still on you, grappling with something that wasn’t there before.

“I just need this,” he says, speaking for the first time since he first spotted you in the tavern.

“Ok,” you reply, tilting your head up to give him a soft kiss, “Ok.”

He gives you a small smile of gratitude and returns to the kiss. The moment of quiet tenderness between you quickly transitions back into the same breathless ferocity of before. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, biting it hard and then soothing the pain away with his tongue’s soft caress. He lifts you, always catching you off guard by how strong he is beneath the brightly colored clothes that insinuate weakness, and roughly deposits you on the bed. His body moves over yours, hand snaking under your skirt as the light blue eyes give you a questioning glance, halting his progress at your knee. You nod and he favors you with another soft, grateful smile before his mouth is on yours again and you can feel his fingers swipe across your slit, already wet and ready for him. He likes to tease you, usually making you beg for it because he knows you love the same, but he curls two fingers inside of you without so much as pausing the kiss, swallowing your gasp of surprise and the quickly following moan of pleasure. His practiced hand knows every part of you, your body’s needs so well learned it’s practically become muscle memory, even after all these weeks apart. You’re surprised by the speed with which he’s able to make you come and he watches your face as you do, not with the usual reverence and pride but still that look of desperation and concern. You reach for him, ready to shift into the next step in your dance, but he gently moves your hand back. He’s receptive to your embrace though, allowing you to pull him onto your chest, head resting above your rib cage where he can hear the still hurried beating of your heart. You hold him like this for a while, happy to bear the weight of his body and whatever else it is he carries.


End file.
